Monday, July 24, 2006 . 7/24/2006
I've been remaking Draemora's history to something that is a bit more interesting..I. Prologue
II. Blood of the Disrespectful
III. Ashes from Oblivion
IV. Deep Red Rose (in progress)
Greetings, Reader. I am here to tell you of a great, ancient dragon, that I have known nearly all my life and that has known me for twice as long. This dragon is no ordinary dragon (but then again, what character ever is in these kinds of stories?). No, she was.. shall I say, something special. But before I get into that, I must first tell you a brief history of Istaria, and of myself.
Istaria is another plane of existance, one that some are lucky (or unlucky) enough to go to when their last breath passes. Whether or not you go to Istaria after you die is decided by the gods at birth. People who pass on to this plane are known as the Gifted. They have attained a special power to not really die, but rather to be given another life. Many enter this life as other beings based on the personality of their spirit.
I died not so long ago, but have been in this world of Istaria long enough to know that an enemy plagues this place. This enemy is known as the Withered Aegis, and it seeks to destroy Istaria and all the Living races that inhabit it.
When I was alive I was a simple person in a simple world. I would travel and make a living off of what I could. However, there was something not so simple about me, something many ignorant people (and there were many) overlooked: I conjured spirits, and occasionally practiced necromancy.
One day while I was in the vast libraries of my city, I discovered an ancient tome, and in it the names of powerful spirits that held secrets, knowledge, and power. One in particular caught my attention: Draemora Aloysius.
I borrowed this massive book, as it contained the incantations I would need to summon this beast. Only three items were needed to enforce the summoning (besides a pentacle and the usual incense): Blood of the disrespectful, ashes from Oblivion, and a deep red rose. The ritual was to be done in a large, dark area with red candles, preferably a dungeon.
I will never forget that moment when this powerful creature was summoned. First, it became bitter cold, and then hot, and then cold again. Red-hot flames danced around my pentacle and the pentacle where Draemora would appear. The candles dimmed and then became more blood-red than ever. Finally, it happened: she materialized. She was at first outlined by flame, and with her came a strange scent of death and blood and roses. A loud, thundering growl, and then she was there in all her glory.
This dragon was blood-red with black markings, and eerie green highlights. She was gigantic, being easily as big as several elephants stacked atop eachother. I will never forget those huge teeth, cruel eyes.. and those six very large horns on her head. I was in awe, and just the thought of this moment makes me remain in awe to this day.
I do not remember much of what she said at first, the moment of seeing this beast was so intense. I do remember she said she lives in a place that is full with fire, lava, and ash.. and that there were many others of her kind. Listening to her took away many years of what was left of my life, and to this day I do not know how that happened.
Draemora. A strange name for a strange beast.
Her life started many, many years ago, so far off that not even the greatest spinners of tales can remember. But one did, and her name was Vrae. She was an It, really, as the Sslik, an odd reptilian race, have no actual gender, but she looks more feminine and so is called a she.
The reason that this Sslik remembers such things is because Draemora told her. That is, of course, a great way to gain information of her life, but this dragoness did not give away the tales of her history easily. Instead, there had to be a great bond. And there was.
Vrae, of course, happened upon an ancient tome many years ago containing lists of spirits and entities of note. Why this particular spirit, Draemora Aloysius, interested her more than the rest was simple: she was an ancient spirit already, she was a warrior, and she was cruel.
Cruel to her enemies, at least. In her very brief and vague history that was given in this tome, it was stated that Draemora was of the Lunus faction. This was a faction of dragons that did not care for the bipedal races much, and they preferred using their claws over spells in combat. Of course, each dragon is different in their own special way, and so Draemora had her own set of quirks.
For one thing, she adored the Saris race. She always has held a special place in her hard, cold heart for these adorable, catlike bipedal creatures, and she would do anything to protect them.
As for another, this dragon would eat her own kind. But not blindly like some monster, oh, no. Draemora was better than that. Sometimes, when not raised right (or not raised at all), a hatchling would become disrespectful of its elders. When, on the rare occasion that this happened, the mighty ancient dragoness would give the little beast a warning, and if that did not work, would unhinge her jaws like a snake and swallow the poor excuse for a dragon whole. It was said that Draemora knew the scent of disrespectfulness by cutting the victim with one of her many horns, and smelling its blood.
This is why blood of the disrespectful is needed to summon this awesome beast.
This ancient dragoness has had quite an odd history. She lives in a place of ashes and flame, and was born in a place of ashes and flame, though these places are seperate.
The plain of Oblivion is very similar to that of Dralk. They both have lava, fire, ash, and smoke. Oblivion has seperate realms of its own, ruled by the different Daedric (or demonic) lords.
Draemora's black egg was found lying around somewhere near one of Oblivion's many cathedrals, in Lord Dagon's plane of Oblivion. Lord Dagon had (and still does have) many followers which are referred to as the dremora. These are demonic-looking people who have horns, red and black skin, and a special kind of armor. One of these dremora found the egg and brought it inside the cathedral, asking his fellow kind what should be done.
Why, it's a gift from Lord Dagon! one said. The egg must be placed in lava in order for it to hatch. Dragons in this realm are rare, and are a sign from Him!
And so it was. Draemora's egg was placed in lava, and after nearly fifty years finally hatched. What was revealed both pleased Dagon and his followers, and held them in awe.
She was small at the time of course. She had six horns arranged on her head like a crown, she was red and black like the dremora, and she was serpentine. Most of all, the texture of her scales was like that of Daedric armor: hard and very, very tough.
Days passed. The hatchling was treated as a queen and was dubbed Draemora Aloysius, a name derived from the creatures of Oblivion, the Daedra, and the dremora peoples themselves. Aloysius meant roughly 'noble warrior' in their tongue.
It was not long before Draemora was contacted by Lord Dagoth telepathically. He said that she must go to the plain of Istaria, learn to be a true dragon, to establish herself there, and to rid of the enemy that had plagued them for centuries: the Withered Aegis. This enemy also threatened the plain of Oblivion, though Draemora did not know how at the time.
So she was sent there at a very young age, learning the ways of true dragons and growing stronger. She had become a dangerous foe to the Withered Aegis.
This, my friends, is why ashes from Oblivion are needed to summon this ancient dragon. Part of her essence is still in this plain, helping Lord Dagon guard the fiery place. One would have to summon a dremora in order to receive the ashes.
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